Tricky Treats

21. Rule No. 11

CHAPTER 21 

The past few days seemed brighter. The mayor took a bite of his toast with a light spread of marmite. He indulged it with his Earl Grey that tasted more pleasant this fine morning. He had already journaled his daily goals for fifteen minutes, completed the monthly budget and responded to letters. Everything was up to date.

He clapped the rest of the toast crumbs from his hands and strolled to the window, checking up on his small town. The residents were awake with morning activity as the adults went about their work and the children attended the only school in Finchdale.

His eyes unwillingly wondered to Tricky Treats down the street. He had to lean his head to see more clearly. The madam's doors were open. Customers still filtered through. Even at 9am in the damn morning.

He shook his head, frustrated. The fines were just a reprimand to Madam Serena alone. It didn't impact the residents in any way. But it showed her he was in control, and she had to abide by his rules. But it wouldn't deter people from the madam. Her treats seemed irresistible to them... it was plain down unnatural!

He didn't want Madam Serena to consume his thoughts today. He claimed a small victory in schooling her and he should rejoice in it. He carried on with his duties. Focusing his brain on accounting records and other more pressing matters.

It was noon, and the mayor was neck deep in attempting to edit his thesis. But after two hours, he had done almost nothing. No typing. No writing. Nothing! His thoughts thinking of ways to gain advantage over Tricky Treats if the time came.

He grabbed a pen and written an official notice on a blank page and signed it. Next, he officiated it with a stamp. His hands lifted the notice at eye level as he read the new rule. He hated he had to play this way. But it had to be done. For the sake of his small town.

It was best to be prepared.

Fines were not enough to install order. It was not enough to stop her, either.

He abandoned his duties and grabbed his hat on the rack by the door and marched out. It was lunch time, and the skies were a blanket of white clouds. No sun graced Finchdale today with a chilly wind accompanying it. Some time later, the mayor found himself in front of PC Holmes' house front door. He was upset to see the constable not at his post at the constable's office.

It might have been lunchtime, but PC Holmes had to be there. No excuses!

The mayor knocked three times. And no answer. No one came to the door. Not even Mrs. Holmes. She was a housewife. Naturally, she'll be at home. He knocked again, this time a little harder.

Nothing.

The mayor's patience was running thin. A virtue he once prided now faded. He huffed out and sworn under his breath. PC Holmes was incompetent!

"Holmes!" he hollered. Earning a few looks from onlookers.

Nothing... until it left zero patience in him.

Suddenly, the mayor heard a shriek and a bolt of laughter ushering from inside the single house. The mayor grimaced, feeling blatantly ignored. He entered the Holmes's residence, like he did countless of times. PC Holmes house was medium-sized. There were no large houses in Finchdale. Everyone lived modestly.

The mayor creased his brows. The place seemed empty.

"Holmes?" he called. "Is anyone here?" he turned his head left to the kitchen and right down the passage to the living room.

The mayor heard another shriek echoing from the living room. He crept towards the sound with alarm.

"Uh... Uhhh!" another sound called out.